


stay 'til morning comes

by vtforpedro



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Conversations, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 08:18:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11144502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtforpedro/pseuds/vtforpedro
Summary: In which Bilbo tries to leave and is stopped by someone unexpected.





	stay 'til morning comes

“I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do.”

Bilbo slumps in relief to hear these words and clasps Bofur’s arm, unable to convey his immense gratitude with words. He squeezes what he considers his only friend’s forearm and nods, then turns to the cave entrance, hiking his pack further up, looking at the downpour that is still happening outside.

He has not had time to dry off from being in the storm and knows that he will not likely be dry again until the sun comes out. He wonders when that will be and hopes it is in the morning but this is a torrential rain and does not promise to stop anytime soon. He steels himself, taking in a deep breath, then leaves the cave and steps into the cold rain.

Immediately he feels heavier and wishes he had thought to bring along a different coat, not for the first time. The one he wears does not do well against the elements in any way and it reminds him that he has been ill-prepared for this venture since the very beginning. It is no wonder that Thorin has scoffed and scorned at his presence and it is beginning to dawn on Bilbo just how right the dwarf king is in his scrutiny. He is not made for adventures; he’s hardly made for going on anything more than a walking holiday and curses his foolish heart for thinking any differently.

He has fought with himself since Thorin called him a grocer. He wished to prove himself in some small way and had tried to do so but it seems the more he strives to do it, the further away he is from accomplishing his goal. Thorin has the right to doubt him and after tonight, after his near death experience, he is greatly doubting himself, more so than at any previous time.

So he will leave and he will cease to be a burden.

The dwarves will surely be glad of it.

Bilbo squints his eyes against the rain and peers through the curtain of water and the dark night as well as he can; he no longer sees a thunder battle, though it still sounds as if one is occurring, and nods to himself. He can only hope that the mountain does not start to move again or surely he will be lost.

He begins to make his way back the way they came, hugging the mountain wall, edging around sharp rocks and slippery stone. His feet may be calloused but they are still made of flesh and he is susceptible to slips as well as the dwarves are.

Bilbo reaches a wide ledge that slopes steadily downwards and laments that he already does not recognize this place, as few feet from the cave as he is. It has been hard to track his movements in the rain and he can only hope that he goes the right way through the mountains. He is a day from Rivendell, he suspects, and he knows he must keep as true to the West as he can.

“Master Baggins.”

It is a good thing he has found himself on this balcony or he would certainly be a dead hobbit with the way he startles, and whirls around to face who has shouted his name, though he knows the voice as well as his own by this point in the journey.

Thorin is standing only a few feet behind him, soaked to the bone, his hair hanging limp and dripping rivulets down his face, water gathering on the point of his nose. He looks like a half drowned dog but his eyes are bright and he is peering at Bilbo rather more intensely than he would like.

Bilbo says nothing because it is quite obvious what he is doing. He is surprised that Thorin is there but he tries not to show it and simply arches his eyebrows, as if he is being interrupted on important business.

Thorin steps closer, until he is nearly looming over Bilbo, and stares down at him, still observing him in that unnerving way.

“Where are you going?”

It is almost casual, the way he asks it, like they are friends and there is not a severe storm occurring around them.

Bilbo lets out a breath and shakes his head. “Home,” he answers simply.

Thorin looks around them, as if to say he is wondering why Bilbo thinks it’s a good idea to venture out in the rain, then settles his blue eyes back on the hobbit. “Home,” he repeats. “And you think you will make it there.”

Bilbo bristles a bit, but tries not to show it. “I know the way home,” he says, voice raised in the face of the rain and thunder.

“I do not doubt it. But this is a poor time to decide to go home,” Thorin responds. “You are more likely to lose your footing and perish in this storm than find your way back out of these mountains alone.”

“I’m afraid I’ll just have to risk it,” Bilbo says, bothered by Thorin’s easy way of speaking, and unsettled by the fact that it is this dwarf who has come after him. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be going now.”

Before he can turn away, Thorin’s hand lands on his shoulder, and he grips it tight, looking at Bilbo from under his brow. There is a slight curve to his mouth and this more than anything rankles Bilbo.

“You’ll have to find yourself another burglar,” he says. “I’ve quite worn out my welcome here. And rightly so. I don’t belong here, as you’ve said just a short while ago, so I will no longer burden you. I know that I have and I’m sorry for coming along to begin with, and wasting your time. I never should have. I know that you will make it home and that Erebor will once more be yours. I have the utmost faith in that still. Go home, Thorin. I’ve got mine to get back to.”

He is rather proud of this because his voice had not faltered but when he tries to free himself of Thorin’s grip, he simply tightens his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. It is not painful but it is firm and unmoving and Bilbo frowns in disapproval.

“Even I would not dare to travel in this storm, Master Baggins,” Thorin says, looking around them. “It is foolish, and dangerous, and I will not have your death weigh on my conscience. Come back to the safety of the cave and forget this folly.”

Bilbo shakes his head. “No and thank you. I’ll be alright on my own. I’m quite small and I’ll be able to traverse the mountains with little trouble,” he says with a confidence he doesn’t feel. Thorin’s brow lifts a little, as if to say he is aware, and Bilbo juts his chin forth. “I will not perish. Good luck, Thorin, and goodbye.”

Thorin’s hand does something quite unexpected then and comes to rest on the side of his neck, and the king steps even closer, lowering his head, and his voice when he says, “We can discuss on the morrow your place in my Company. But you will not leave this night. Bofur should not have let you go and I will not now. The chance of survival is slim and no one will be around to save you if you are to fall from the mountainside. Come, let us go back to the safety of the cave.” He gently presses his fingers against Bilbo’s neck and then pulls away, motioning with his head.

Bilbo’s cheeks feel warm and there are confused thoughts getting muddled up in his head but he is still angry that his wishes are being brushed aside. He sets a firm line to his lips and stiffens his posture, looking at Thorin and furrowing his brow. He means to leave and he will do so; Thorin’s offer has done little to sway him, though there is still a longing in his heart for the dry cave, and for the familiar snores of the Company.

Thorin watches him, then his mouth curves again, and it is distinctly a smile, though a small, almost secret one. “Stubborn halfling,” he says, and if Bilbo didn’t know any better, he’d think it was with warmth, which certainly cannot be true. “Must I carry you?”

Bilbo is so taken aback by this that he gapes at Thorin, his mouth hanging open in surprise. He sputters indignantly and feels the tips of his ears warm and wonders if they give off steam in the cold rain. “You will do no such thing, Thorin Oakenshield,” he says, and starts to feel as if this conversation is very foolish indeed. “I will be going home! You have said yourself I don’t belong here! I should think you would be glad to see me go, storm or no storm! I’ve done nothing but get in the way, so you are right, I shouldn’t be here. Do let me go, Thorin, and then I will no longer trouble you.”

“I spoke hastily,” Thorin admits. “You have been considered a part of my Company for some time now. If the others were awake, they would not let you go so easily either. You have a duty yet, Master Baggins. I will see you fulfill it.”

It is a way of inviting him to stay in the Company, to be a part of it, and is bordering on an apology, though still not quite one. Bilbo is unbelievably shocked by it all and simply stares at Thorin, at a loss. Just a short time ago he had said words that were harsh, that cut right through Bilbo, though he had heard the truth of them. That he was lost and that he did not have a place amongst them. Now Thorin seems to want him to stay, even until the end, and Bilbo doesn’t quite know what to say in the face of it.

He stays quiet, frowning, and wishes that he was home in his armchair and sleeping soundly with the Company at once. There is a war in his heart and he doesn’t know which side he’s on.

Thorin lets him think and says nothing more.

Then Bilbo hangs his head and knows the truth of it. He will not likely survive the night unless he were to find different shelter, which they had not passed on the cliffs. He would slip again, and fall to his doom, no king to save him, and then there would be nothing left of him. It seems like it would be such a wasteful death and he doesn’t wish to die anytime soon. He knows Thorin is right but there is still a part of him that wants to leave and be done with this. Thorin had said they could discuss it on the morrow, which is something Bilbo did not want; he knows the others will try to convince him to stay, which is why he tried to slip out when they were asleep.

It may be more a blessing than a curse that Thorin seemed to have heard him.

He sighs and lifts his head to look back at Thorin, frowning, and feels quite sad, and a little pitiful. He nods. “Very well,” he says. “At least until morning.”

“We will discuss it,” Thorin says, and squeezes Bilbo’s shoulder. He has seemed to avoid coming near Bilbo anytime before this and Bilbo is rather confused at the touch. “Come along and rest this night.”

Bilbo sighs once more, but nods, and Thorin motions for him to go first. He begins to make his way back to the cave and feels rather foolish when it is a short walk indeed. He had hardly gotten anywhere and thinks that Thorin had certainly been right. He begins to feel ashamed for his choice to leave when he had been upset, rather than thinking things through, and when he steps back inside the cave, avoids looking at Bofur.

He keeps his head low and goes to the corner of the cave, unclasping his bedroll, and does not look at any of the dwarves. He hopes that no one else is awake and is glad to hear their snores for more than one reason.

Thorin walks by him and seems to go to his own bedroll.

Bilbo lays his bedroll out and lies down, shivering, and cursing the storm. He is unsettled now and wonders if he will manage to find any rest while it continues to thunder outside.

There is a thud and he looks up in surprise to see Thorin bedding down next to him. His first thought is to be offended because Thorin must think he will try and sneak off again, though how he could get by Bofur remains a mystery. He does not need to be watched. He purses his lips and looks away from the king.

“Relax, Master Baggins,” Thorin says quietly, and removes his fur-lined coat. He drapes it over Bilbo, who freezes, then lies down. “Sleep.”

The coat is wet but it is thick and will keep Bilbo warm if he remains huddled underneath it. He doesn’t quite know what to say, his manners forgotten, and watches Thorin as he settles. Thorin’s eyes meet his and there is something in them that Bilbo can’t quite place. Then they close and Thorin is clearly headed for sleep.

Bilbo tucks himself under the coat more and watches Thorin, thinking that he is not tired, until he cannot keep his eyes open anymore, and drifts into a slumber.

Morning does not come as it should, as the floor falls away, and there are goblins and worse, but they make it out alive, and in the end Thorin embraces Bilbo, and murmurs into his ear that he has a place at his side, and Bilbo knows that he will not think of leaving it again.

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda random but I thought I'd share anyway. :)


End file.
